


Leave Me To Lay But Touch Me Deep

by Synekdokee



Category: Prometheus (2012), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, Robot Sex, creepy david, robot virginity, robot/human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-25
Updated: 2013-07-25
Packaged: 2017-12-21 08:26:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synekdokee/pseuds/Synekdokee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David pulls out a chair and sits down, facing Charles. He beckons with his hand, a gesture so subtle and efficient it seems calculated, measured.</p><p>Or programmed, whispers the voice in Charles's head, but it's too fleeting for Charles to grasp. So Charles obeys, goes to stand next to David, his body swaying lightly as he struggles to keep his eyes open. </p><p>"In my lap," instructs David, guiding Charles with his hands until Charles is straddling him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Me To Lay But Touch Me Deep

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at the kinkmeme: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8700.html?thread=18495228#t18495228
> 
> ""Let's pretend after someone is brought out of cryogenic sleep, they are in a highly suggestible state of mind ... So David 8 wakes up crewmember Dr. Charles Xavier ... and "suggests" Charles have sex with him..." 
> 
>  
> 
> Tagged for dub-con because while in my head Charles is aware that he's about to have sex and is capable of saying no, he *is* admittedly pretty out of it. He's not drugged, he's just disoriented, so just assume that if he felt unsafe, he would stop David. (Obviously IRL this would just be rape.)
> 
> Also, robot!virginity, creepy David.

"Wake up", says a voice, gentle and kind and distant. Like something out of a dream. Charles's eyes flutter open and he looks up. There's a man smiling down at him. No, that's not right, not a man or...  
  
Wait. Blond hair, grey eyes - grey like metallic alloy... something at the edge of his recollection, dancing out of his grasp.  
  
The man ( _he looks like a man_ Charles thinks. _But that's not right,_ says a whisper in his mind) helps Charles up with strong, guiding touches, supporting him as he climbs out of the pod and stands swaying next to it.  
  
Charles looks at the... person next to him. A name floats up from the recesses of his memory.  
  
"David..." Charles mutters, but it means nothing to him.  
  
"Very good," says David. _David_.  
  
"Have we arrived?" Charles asks David. David gives him a look.  
  
"You should not concern yourself with questions about the journey, doctor Xavier," he says, mouth curving in a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "You should leave those to me."  
  
"Why don't you undress," David continues, voice kind and and caring. "You will feel much more comfortable."  
  
It sounds like a statement, and Charles hears truth in the words, even if his mind can't process it. He strips slowly, the backs of his thighs pressed against the pod for support. Soon he stands naked in front of-  
  
" _Charles._ "  
  
Charles blinks. He'd closed his eyes, surely just a blink, but David is standing closer. Charles's eyelids feel lead-heavy. He can't shake the fog out of his head. He feels warm and everything has a fuzzy glow.  
  
Charles shakes his head and feels locks of his hair fall over his brow. The feathery strands feel huge and foreign, his skin sensitive and over-stimulated.  
  
"I feel strange," Charles says, looking blearily at David.  
  
David nods but doesn't acknowledge his words otherwise.  
  
"Come with me," says David. Charles follows, nude and uncaring.  
  
  
  
  
  
They're in the mess hall. David stops by the table and starts undressing, efficient and quick. Not for show. Jacket, undershirt, shoes, trousers, underwear. Everything ends up in a neat, folded pile on the table. A small jar is placed on next to them.  
  
David pulls out a chair and sits down, facing Charles. He beckons with his hand, a gesture so subtle and efficient it seems calculated, measured.  
  
_Or programmed_ , whispers the voice in Charles's head, but it's too fleeting for Charles to grasp. So Charles obeys, goes to stand next to David, his body swaying lightly as he struggles to keep his eyes open.  
  
"In my lap," instructs David, guiding Charles with his hands until Charles is straddling him, legs barely reaching the floor on either side of the chair.  
  
David is warm. Charles shivers at the contrast of the cool, controlled temperature of the ship, and David's body heat. Charles leans forward and presses his face into the curve of David's neck. He closes his eyes and starts to drift.  
  
  
"No," says a voice, rumbling somewhere beneath Charles's chest, spilling out next to his ear.  
  
Charles pulls away but keeps his eyes closed. He thinks he's dreaming. It _feels_ like he's dreaming.  
  
"I would like for you to touch yourself," says David. Charles hesitates. Soon there's a hand on his, guiding it down to his flaccid cock, curling their joined fingers around Charles's soft member.  
  
"Go on," David murmurs, kind and encouraging. "I would like you to show me what you enjoy, doctor."  
  
Charles lets out a whimper but starts moving his hand, does it the way he likes to do it when he's alone. Slow, firm strokes, playing with the foreskin, swiping his thumb across the head, dipping into the slit, back down again, his cock swelling beneath the touch of his hand.  
  
It feels good. His whole body is relaxed, pliant and drowsy. Every touch feels like so much more than when he's awake. He feels nice. He keeps his eyes closed. Is it a dream?  
  
  
"That's enough," says David calmly when Charles's prick is hard and leaking. A whine escapes Charles's throat but he lets go, letting his hand fall to his thigh.  
  
A strong hand pushes him back against David's chest and Charles settles there happily, enjoying the heat emanating from David's body. Charles thinks he can hear a soft whirr from somewhere close to his ear, almost inaudible, but there. It seems like it should be important, but Charles can't concentrate.  
  
  
There's a clinking sound and then David's hands are at his ass cheeks, parting them carefully as slick fingers trace a path down to Charles's hole.  
  
Charles jerks as the first finger presses in but his body is too heavy with fatigue to truly resist.  
  
David prepares Charles in silence, fingers moving efficiently inside him, loosening him up while he pants and whines into the smooth skin of David's neck.  
  
"Is that sufficient?" David queries after he's slipped three fingers in with barely any resistance. Charles moans and presses his face tighter into David's neck. He's hard, his cock jutting up between their bodies. His arousal courses through him in pulses, spreading all over his body in waves, a hum of pleasure penetrating the sleepy haze.  
  
"Good," says David, sounding pleased with himself, the way Charles knows he himself sounds when he's made a new discovery on his research.  
  
  
David shifts, guides Charles up for a second before lowering him down again, Charles's limbs loose with sleep.  
  
"Sit up," instructs David as he pushes Charles gently away from his chest. Charles sighs but sits straighter, locking his spine and letting his head tilt back lazily.  
  
More shifting and then there's a blunt pressure at his hole, pressing against the rim, then slipping over his crack. David lets out a displeased sound and Charles opens his eyes for one hazy moment to see that David looks puzzled, twisting his body to peek around Charles.  
  
Eyes slipping closed again, with a heavy sigh Charles reaches behind himself and grasps David's cock, eliciting a sharp gasp from David. David is hot and hard and feels thick in Charles's hand as he guides him to his hole, canting his hips lightly and pressing down with a cry as David's prick slowly starts sinking in.  
  
  
Charles can feel the stretch, delicious and burning as he lowers himself down until David is completely sheathed inside him.  
  
"Oh," says David, and then he falls quiet again, utterly still, not even breathing ( _doesn't need to breathe?_ Charles almost remembers) as Charles lifts himself up, mere inches, and lowers himself down again and again, over and over, fucking himself on David's thick cock with small whimpers spilling from his mouth. Breathless gasps and whines fall from his lips like blood-red jewels as though he's in pain and ecstasy, guttural groans blooming from his throat as David's cock-head presses against his prostate, relentless and perfect.  
  
  
"What do you need," says David suddenly, voice calm and controlled but there's a stutter there, his tone sharp and rigid.  
  
  
Charles parts his eyes open, looks at David and licks his dry lips, tries to think of how he got here but he can't remember and it doesn't matter, the only thing that matters is David beneath him, inside him, splitting him open. And Charles's pleasure, the steady thrum of it between his thighs and racing up his spine.  
  
Panting hard, thighs straining with the excertion of keeping himself moving without David's support, Charles sits down fully, David's balls flush against his buttocks. Moving his hips in tiny jerks that make David's cock rub him perfectly, Charles brings up his hand to pinch at his right nipple, moaning loud as he squeezes it sharply, tugging and rolling it between the pads of his fingers.  
  
Without a request from Charles David reaches up with his right hand - his left one still hanging down limply, as though David doesn't know where to put it - and touches Charles's left nipple, first tentatively, then pulling on it lightly, pinching it as a curious look lights his eyes.  
  
  
Charles lets his eyes fall closed again and he's certain he _must_ be dreaming as he grinds himself on David's prick and feels his both nipples being played with and tormented as his cock leaks precome over his belly.  
  
  
He reaches down with his free hand to touch himself. It only takes a handful of strokes and then he's pinching hard with his fingers, squeezing his nipple with blunt nails as he comes hard, head thrown back and mouth parted in a soundless scream. He comes over his and David's stomachs, hips jerking in David's lap as he clenches down on the thickness inside him.  
  
  
  
David holds him steady through his aftershocks and when Charles's breathing evens out and his head nods forward, eyes closed, on the verge of sleep, David tilts Charles forward and braces him against his chest and shoulders and starts thrusting into him. Charles lets out a wounded whine, his asshole sore and oversensitive from David's cock, but he's too tired, mind too foggy to protest.  
  
It doesn't take long. Suddenly David is grasping Charles hard, his grip bruising as the whirring Charles heard ealier gets louder, more frantic. Then, with a jerk and a suffocated cry, David slumps down, his body relaxing but his grip on Charles still punshingly hard.  
  
  
  
They stay like that for what could be minutes or hours, Charles's thoughts muddled and fleeting even as he's aware of the worn ache, of something warm leaking from his hole.  
  
  
  
Eventually David makes him get up and gets himself dressed, and then he takes Charles back to the cryo room and helps him clean up a little. Careful, methodical swipes of damp cloth between Charles's buttocks and a warm, strong arm around his weight, keeping him still.  
  
"Thank you," says David as he assists Charles in getting dressed, Charles clinging to David's solid form for support as his tired body falters.  
  
"That was most illuminating," David continues as he helps Charles lay down in the pod. David is smiling. He looks satisfied, and his cheeks look pinker. It seems somehow wrong.  
  
Charles gives a questioning mumble but David doesn't elaborate.  
  
  
Charles closes his eyes and as the roof of the pod slides closed, lets sleep claim him.


End file.
